


We Really Should Have Let You In Earlier, All Things Considered

by Bestboiuwu



Series: The Pidgeon Saga [1]
Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types
Genre: Alan deserves the world maybe actually, Eric Andre let me in bit but it's me and I'm screaming let him in, Mayhaps, Post-Canon, have these tags gotten off track?, why can't canon be nicer to him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26769442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bestboiuwu/pseuds/Bestboiuwu
Summary: Sam lets Alan into the grid.
Series: The Pidgeon Saga [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955407
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	We Really Should Have Let You In Earlier, All Things Considered

"You are joking me."

"No."

"This is a prank."

"It's not."

"You're 100% serious?"

"Dead."

Alan looks Sam dead in the eyes, looking for some hint of amusement, that little flint in his eye that would tell him that he's having a joke at Alan's expense. He doesn't find it, instead seeing a _very_ hard expression that he knows as Sam's _this is very serious, please take me seriously,_ _this isn't anything like that time with the pidgeons I promise_ expression.

Alan takes a deep breath. I guess we're doing this. "Alright, beam me up, Scotty."

Sam types for a bit, before hitting one distinctive final  _ slam  _ on the enter key. He then watches with a solid blend of excitement, worry, and horror as Alan finds himself being zapped into the computer. 

He remembers watching Lora's tests back in the day, seeing the laser deconstruct something as simple as a peach or an orange.

One time, he had jokingly wondered aloud what it felt like to be the orange.

Lora had laughed and called the idea stupid. Well, joke's on her, now he knows what it's like to be the orange.

He sees  _ colors _ , now, reds and blues and oranges swimming in a sea of geometric shapes. He feels himself flying by them, the colors and shapes turning to something more  _ solid  _ as he enters the world of the grid.

He finds himself in an office, not to different to the one he just left. But this one's cleaner, simpler; no dust, no photos, no miscellaneous old garbage of Flynn's or half-abandoned projects. And, notably; no Sam. He was in a different place, now. The Lazer had worked.

He stands, slowly. He takes a deep breath, and with slow, deliberate steps, exits the arcade.

The first thing he sees is the lights, and  _ god, _ the  _ lights. _ They line the buildings, illuminating everything with cool-colored tones that catch on the low-looming fog that surrounds the middle of the buildings; the street, the bikes, the people, they're all  _ alight _ . The people are a sight all on their own; the same lights cover their bodies, intricate patterns of circuitry tracing their forms. Many stop to stare at him, initially, but most seem to find themselves distracted and move on to other things. He takes a few steps down from the entrance of the arcade and takes it all in. He walks forward, examining the city block, stopping before a building next to a wide strip of light that frames it's corners.

He lets his fingertips brush against the strip of light, watching the glow bounce off of his fingers.

"You did it, buddy." He whispers, and places his hand firmly against the side of the building.

Sam beams in a few minutes after him, and finds him still standing there, his hand pressed against the wall. 

"He did it, Sam. He did it."

"Yeah. He did."


End file.
